


When All Your Reds Turn Blue

by geckoholic



Series: gecko's little SCI kinktober [1]
Category: S.C.I.谜案集 | S.C.I. Mystery (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Breathplay, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Kink Exploration, M/M, No Safeword, Rough Sex, Under-negotiated Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:03:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27124237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/geckoholic/pseuds/geckoholic
Summary: He's familiar with the cadence and patterns of Zhan Yao's breathing at this point, and right now, it's shallow but arrhythmic. Not sleep. Not even pretending to be asleep. That's impatience, barely reined in frustration, unease.
Relationships: Bai Yutong/Zhan Yao
Series: gecko's little SCI kinktober [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1979833
Comments: 7
Kudos: 72





	When All Your Reds Turn Blue

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, SCI fandom. I've taken a good look around the tag, and you know what I've decided we really need more of? Yes. Porn. And I've decided to be the change I want to see. It's kinktober, after all. 
> 
> Beta-read by ying and undeadrobins. Thanks so much to both of you! ♥ All remaining mistakes are mine.
> 
> Title is from "Red Turns Blue" by David Cook.

Bai Yutong isn't sure what makes him blink awake in the first place, but his situational awareness kicks in quickly enough for him to notice two things. One, it's still the middle of the night, closer to the time they went to bed than to the time they're supposed to get up, and two, he isn't the only person awake in this bed. He's familiar with the cadence and patterns of Zhan Yao's breathing at this point, and right now, it's shallow but arrhythmic. Not sleep. Not even pretending to be asleep. That's impatience, barely reined in frustration, unease.

Bai Yutong shifts to glance at the digital clock by the bed. 2:43 AM. Has he been lying awake this whole time? Worrying at a problem, his mind unable to let go, but too considerate to wake Bai Yutong up and share his thoughts, or, at least, share the fact that there's something keeping him up. They're supposed to be in this together now, after all.

Then again, it's not like Bai Yutong would have woken him up for a heart-to-heart either had their positions been reversed. Might be a bit hypocritical to expect that from Zhan Yao, even though he’s supposed to be the smart one between them, the mature one, the one who's _good_ at talking.

As things lie, however, it's on Bai Yutong to make Zhan Yao aware that he's not only woken up, but also noticed the other's rotten mood and now means to inquire into its cause.

“A-Yao?” he tries, the endearment rolling off his tongue much easier at night than in the light of day.

He gets a muffled complaint in reply – or maybe it’s an insult, it’s hard to tell – and then a deep sigh once Zhan Yao has noisily sat up. He feels the weight of Zhan Yao's gaze on him, long-suffering, indignant. And yet, Bai Yutong is quite sure, were the room not pitch dark around them, he'd see a slight embarrassed burn on Zhan Yao's cheeks as he looks up to meet his eyes. No point doing that in the dark, though, so he gently tugs Zhan Yao back down instead and curls into his side for good measure, pinning him there.

“You're supposed to be asleep,” he admonishes, the intended effect somewhat ruined halfway through by a yawn he doesn't manage to stifle.

Zhan Yao huffs at him. “So are you,” he shoots back, his tone unusually indignant. “Go back to sleep, Yutong, and stop worrying about me.”

How unintentionally telling a response, to someone even vaguely familiar with deflection and distractions like, oh, a police officer with some experience in suspect interrogation. Alarm bells chime in Bai Yutong's head. Zhan Yao's jabs only get so careless when he's too busy worrying his way through a case to keep his own reactions in check. But there is no case right now. Things have been quiet for the last week and a half, and theoretical problems don't keep Zhan Yao up at night, unless he’s staying up too late to finish an essay or an article or formulate a reply to a colleague. They don't keep him awake, tossing and turning until the small hours of the morning.

“I can't sleep when I know you're lying awake,” Bai Yutong argues back, tries to make it sound like a bit of a gripe, so as to not let his worry bleed into his voice. “So tell me, anything I can do to help you fall back asleep?”

Zhan Yao's reaction is equally telling. He hooks his leg underneath Bai Yutong's – which, unfair, Bai Yutong is rather sure he taught him that himself – and uses that move to flip them, put Bai Yutong underneath him. He crashes their mouths together in a rough, demanding kiss, and only once they come up for air does he actually _voice_ his... well request seems like the wrong word here.

“You're worried I'm thinking too much, aren't you?” Zhan Yao assesses, hovering so close to Bai Yutong's face that a whisper would have been loud enough. “Then how about you fuck me so good I can't think anymore?”

It's now definitely Bai Yutong's turn to have his cheeks heat with embarrassment and arousal. He loves when Zhan Yao gets vocal in bed, so very different from what anyone would expect of him and yet so wonderfully in tune with the man Bai Yutong got to know so well, so intimately. He can get quite direct and shameless once he feels safe, and he likes pulling the rug out from underneath Bai Yutong in every way he can think of. He's not shy. He knows what he wants, and he's long since figured out that saying it out loud pushes Bai Yutong's buttons.

Bai Yutong swallows. Even he knows that sex can't replace an honest conversation, but, realistically, neither of them actually has any idea how to have one of those. He's glad, in fact, that Zhan Yao accepts any kind of comfort, doesn't just turn around and go back to feigning sleep.

And besides, Zhan Yao on top of him, demanding to be fucked... he's no saint. He's halfway hard already.

He lets himself be kissed again, doesn't protest when Zhan Yao's hand goes wandering. He obediently opens his legs for better access when Zhan Yao slides that hand down the waistband of his briefs, pressing his palm to Bai Yutong's growing erection. He moans at the stimulation, his heart seizing when Zhan Yao pulls back from the kiss with a downright feral smirk.

Zhan Yao rolls off him in order to shed his own underwear and stretch out on the bed, legs bent and spread wide, all but an engraved invitation. Bai Yutong hurries to get rid of his briefs as well and lays down beside him, although with slightly different intentions than what Zhan Yao might have meant it to be. Despite the lewd show it’s obvious he’s wound up way too tight, a drawstring right on the edge of snapping, and even in the knowledge that he might take it the wrong way, might not welcome it, Bai Yutong resolves to try and get him to unwind before this goes any further. He peppers kisses along Zhan Yao's cheek and jawline, fingers dancing across his stomach, low, but not _that_ low. He wants to indulge for both their sakes, touch and tease, but he's also not immune to the way Zhan Yao wriggles his hips, drawing Bai Yutong's attention to his crotch. A glance tells Bai Yutong that he's fully hard, cock straining up against his stomach, and although his impatience feels wrong, feels too much like unease somehow, Bai Yutong can't help but reach out for him. Zhan Yao hisses at the first touch to his cock The velvety skin at the head is hot under Bai Yutong's fingers, the slit just starting to get wet with precome. Need comes off him in waves, for this, for something else, still tense nearly to the point of trembling no matter how much Bai Yutong tries to get him to relax.

And maybe this won't be resolved by slow teasing. Maybe Zhan Yao won't start to relax until after they're done. Maybe that's truly what he's after – having the tension fucked out of him.

“Come on,” Zhan Yao urges almost as if in confirmation, wriggling his hips again, and Bai Yutong reaches across him to get the lube out of the nightstand. He takes a moment to let it warm in his palm and then reaches between Zhan Yao's legs, brushing his hole with two fingers.

A long moan shudders out of Zhan Yao, which Bai Yutong takes as permission and encouragement, prompting him to push both of those fingers inside at once; slow and careful, but insistent. If he wants fast and rough, then that's what exactly what he's getting. He can take it, they have precedent for that, and they've been together for long enough that Bai Yutong knows his limits, knows how much prep he needs to prevent actual pain, knows that he won't mind a bit of a burn. Still, it's a tight fit at first, Zhan Yao's body slow to take him in and adjust around his fingers. Not that the noises Zhan Yao makes sound at all like complaints; he's moaning and whining, shameless with his pleasure. His breath hitches at the first light brush against his prostate and his thighs tremble. His position has changed a bit, eyes now closed, his entire body turned towards Bai Yutong, and the inherent trust that implies, the surrender... Bai Yutong wants to burst with it, with pride, with affection, with lingering concern.

He ignores the urge to gather Zhan Yao in his arms and switch this over to slow and gentle; instead, he removes his fingers, resting his palm against Zhan Yao's taint, and asks in a lightly lilting tone, “How do you want it?”

Zhan Yao takes his hand, the one that isn't smeared with lube, and threads their fingers together. He holds it between them and searches for Bai Yutong's gaze. “I want,” he says, every word weighted, pronounced very clearly, “for you to hold me down and take me. I want you to fuck me hard and deep, and...” He pauses, here, and raises their joined hands up to touch his neck. “When you're inside me to the hilt, I want you to put your hand around my throat and choke me until I come.”

His words hang between them for a long moment as Bai Yutong tries to process them, put them in order, let them sink in. He pulls his hand back on instinct, manages not to bodily recoil, afraid such a reaction would make Zhan Yao clamp back down immediately. He won't... he can't _choke_ Zhan Yao. But he also has a general idea of how much this request must have cost Zhan Yao – how much of that trust it puts on display, trust to be heard, trust to not be rejected, trust in Bai Yutong's ability to keep him safely on the edge. He's torn; it feels wrong, turning such violence on the man he loves. Then again, Zhan Yao sounded sure, clear-headed, and not at all like he's following a sudden whim. He must have thought about it before. Entertained the idea, examined it. Decided it's something he wants, waited for the right moment to ask. And this is most assuredly not the right moment, which just goes to show how desperate he must be tonight for the kind of sex that makes every thought flee from his head.

Swallowing hard, Bai Yutong nods, and his heart jolts at the way Zhan Yao exhales deeply, like he's been holding his breath while waiting for Bai Yutong to make his decision. “Thank you,” he says. Whispers it, really, and briefly closes his eyes. “I won't ask this of you again if you don't enjoy it as well.”

Bai Yutong waves him off, giving him an admittedly rather awkward smile. “Lay back,” he prompts. “Get comfortable.” He reaches out to brush the side of his fingers against Zhan Yao's neck, enjoys the way the other's breath hitches ever so slightly. He pitches his voice a little lower when he adds, “Let me take care of you, hm?”

It should sound ridiculous, probably does, but it seems to serve its purpose. Zhan Yao shoots him a eyeroll and a brief smile, and then he lays back, snuggles into the pillows until he appears satisfied with the position, and opens his legs wide so Bai Yutong can crawl between them. Bai Yutong takes the time to give Zhan Yao's cock a few lazy pumps, checking that he's still hard, before he lines up. He leans forward as he pushes inside, towering over Zhan Yao's body. They both know that, should he ever decide to use his superior body mass to pin Zhan Yao down, there would be no easy escape. He leaves it at the threat though, opting instead to only hold onto Zhan Yao's wrists to keep him in place, and thrusts into him, slowly and with care, but even so it must burn a bit; an edge of pain mixed into the pleasure of being filled.

Zhan Yao bites his lips, screws his eyes shut, the effort of being made to take Bai Yutong in one go painted onto his face. And yet, his dick, still hard, still leaking, presses against Bai Yutong's stomach where they're joined, unmistakable evidence that he's still enjoying himself.

Bai Yutong peppers kisses against Zhan Yao's jawline, a promise as well as a counterpoint to his increased pace, to increasing the depth of his thrusts, making sure Zhan Yao really _feels him_ now. He rights himself and drives into him hard, all the way, and it earns him a broken-off moan from Zhan Yao, who arches off the bed, arches into each thrust like he can't get Bai Yutong deep enough.

And this is the moment; this is what Zhan Yao meant. Bai Yutong knows how to choke a person and mean it, in life or death situations where his own survival depends on ensuring his opponent can't come back up. He also knows how to feign the real thing, make it a threat that, if ignored, will lead to more serious consequences. He knows how to monitor someone's reactions so he can drive the point home without it ever getting lethal. He just never expected to use that knowledge _in bed_.

Part of him still balks at doing that to Zhan Yao, especially now, having the other impaled on his cock, vulnerable, but also flushed all the way down to his belly with arousal, trusting Bai Yutong to make him feel good, to keep him safe, to offer a distraction from the swirling mess in his too-big brain.

And so Bai Yutong reaches out and hooks his hand underneath Zhan Yao's jaw, lets it rest there for a few seconds in warning, and then bears down to cut off his airflow. Zhan Yao goes still underneath him, eyes wide, his whole body coiled tight with instinctual fear, but dick impossibly still jerking between them. He _is_ enjoying this, further confirmed by the long moan that breaks out of him the moment Bai Yutong eases the pressure a little bit to let him suck fresh air into his lungs before they do it again.

Zhan Yao's pulse is galloping under his grip, strong and erratic. Intense. It's not without merit, to affect someone so much, being gifted so much trust. For someone – for _Zhan Yao_ to put both his life and his pleasure, his release in Bai Yutong's hands. He bears down again, and this time he can feel himself throb with the rush of it. Can't quite tell himself that's because of the heat and pressure of Zhan Yao's body contracting around him. Can't ignore the goosebumps spreading all down his back from looking at Zhan Yao's face, his eyes screwed shut tightly, his cheeks heated red, his mouth in a thin line from the visible effort of not gasping for air. Can't suppress a desperate moan of his own when he looks down to where their bodies meet and sees that Zhan Yao's erection hasn't lessened at all, that the slit is still glistening with fresh precome.

One more brief reprieve, so long as Bai Yutong still possesses the required self-discipline, and when he hooks his hand up higher against Zhan Yao's jaw to steal his airflow this time, he thrusts into him with almost brutal strength. It feels a little bit wrong, but also very right, and it makes Zhan Yao choke out a breathless, raspy little cry that goes straight to Bai Yutong's cock. He thrusts again, like that, and it does the trick.

Zhan Yao comes. Bai Yutong feels it around his cock before he feels the splash of hot semen against the skin of his stomach; they're curled up together tightly enough that it gets on him as well. He looks down to see the last of Zhan Yao's orgasm, his cock twitching as it spits another couple drips of come between them, and that’s what does him in. He buries himself deep, deep, _so deep_ in his lover's body and then he's spilling inside him, his own release just as strong, just as enduring as Zhan Yao's. It seems to take forever until he's done, feels himself flagging, his hand now resting high up on Zhan Yao's chest instead of around his throat, panting. He makes to pull out, but he's stopped by Zhan Yao's hand around his wrist and a whisper. “Don't.”

He raises an eyebrow, confused. Zhan Yao smiles at him, somehow managing to look somewhat shy and flustered _now_ , after having asked to be choked to orgasm with a completely straight face.

“Stay inside me,” he says, low and hoarse, and shifts so that their bodies are sliding even closer together. “Don't pull out yet.”

He angles his head like he's asking for a kiss, and Bai Yutong complies almost automatically. It lacks all the wild heat from before, gentle but deep, lazily making out as opposed to frantic fucking.

They're young, but not _that_ young, and it takes Bai Yutong a little while to get hard again. The kissing surely helps, as does the way Zhan Yao keeps rocking up against him, little swirls of his hips that he's not sure are done on purpose or instinct. The mess between them is something better ignored than looked at too closely and so he haphazardly wipes it off with the edge of the sheet before he leans in closer, arms wrapping around Zhan Yao's shoulders to heft him up into his lap. Zhan Yao gasps at the unannounced manhandling but hugs him back immediately, and in no other context would he ever allow himself the thought that Zhan Yao was clinging to him, holding onto him like he's a rock in rough sea, his only chance to ride out a storm without being swept away into endless dark depths.

He hugs Zhan Yao tighter while working a hand between their bodies, his forehead leaning against Zhan Yao's shoulder as he takes him in hand. His cock, previously at half-mast, begins to fill up again faster at the attention. Bai Yutong swipes his thumb over the slit and smiles at the muttered curses that prompts from Zhan Yao; he must be so sensitive right now. It's not the right time to be mean, though. He wraps his hand around his shaft instead and moves it up and starts stroking with firm but gentle pressure, careful, but with purpose. He can feel a gust of warm air on his skin as Zhan Yao breathes out slowly, one hand lowering so he can card his fingers through the hair at Bai Yutong's neck, making him shiver in return. His own cock has also begun to take an interest in the proceedings again, and it's not long before he tries an experimental thrust and gets rewarded with a soft moan.

They stay like that for the next couple times he pushes back deeper into Zhan Yao's body, but the position, intimate as it is, doesn't give either of them too much leverage – neither of them is actually going to get off like this. He looks up and whispers Zhan Yao's name to get his attention, make sure it doesn't come as a surprise this time around when he lowers him back down until Zhan Yao's ass is resting on his thighs, legs wrapped around his waist, laid out before him like an offering. He's hard again, cock straining up, and he's staring up at Bai Yutong like he never wants to look at anything else ever again. He's still moving his hips, but it's uncoordinated now; elevated like this, he doesn't have much room to push back onto Bai Yutong's cock.

Bai Yutong leans forward and it brings them closer together, brings him deeper. Zhan Yao makes another one of those wonderful surprised little sounds and angles his head up for a kiss, and Bai Yutong surely doesn't plan on denying him. His whole body covering Zhan Yao's, who's taller but less broad and folded underneath him right now, he leans in for a series of filthy kisses, alternating with his thrusts. He doesn't know how long they're like this – minutes, realistically, since they've both already climaxed once, but it feels like hours, feels like an eternity. He doesn't pay attention to anything else but Zhan Yao pulsing around him, and Zhan Yao's breathing, so he can catch the moment his second orgasm hits and let himself go too after he's fucked him through it.

They're both panting once it's over, spent and exhausted. Zhan Yao whines in discomfort when Bai Yutong finally pulls out, and yeah, he can relate. They're messy and oversensitive to boot, and Bai Yutong merely takes the time to press a quick kiss to Zhan Yao's temple before he gets off the bed and beelines it to the bathroom. He cleans himself up and returns with a warm washcloth for Zhan Yao, handing it to him so he can do the same. The sheets are a loss, too, but that's tomorrow's problem; they'll do for tonight.

His heart sinks when Zhan Yao turns away from him just as soon as they've both gotten comfortable, facing away from him, facing the dark room. He's about to turn around, tug his stubborn cat into his arms whether he wants to or not, as he hears Zhan Yao clearing his throat.

Ah. Not hiding like before, then, just about to say something he doesn't want to look Bai Yutong in the eye for. Still not great, but better, and so Bai Yutong stay where he is and listens.

“Do you think I'm like him?” Zhan Yao eventually asks. His voice is still gravelly, but now it sounds wrong, and a drop of guilt sours Bai Yutong's afterglow further. They might _really_ have to talk about what happened tonight, but that, too, is a problem for the light of day. Right now he forces his thoughts to stay with what Zhan Yao's trying to tell him, and oh... oh _fuck_. “That I look like him, that I behave like him, that I'll end up like him — “

Bai Yutong's confusion at who _he_ is lasts only a second, and even that he writes up to his sex-addled drowsiness. He knows what this is about. The conversation they witnessed a few days ago, between Zhao Jue and Zhan Yao's father. Bai Yutong's own careless remark, _they're talking about you_ , probably serving to give the assumption more weight, make it more real by saying it out loud.

The reason why Zhan Yao has been retreating into his own head, why he hasn't been sleeping.

He sits back up. “No. A-Yao,” he insists. “Listen to me. You're nothing like him. Do you hear me? I don't care if your father doesn't understand you, if he'd rather you were someone else's. I don't care if it's true or not, and even if Zhao Jue is your biological father, there's no way you'll end up like him. Absolutely no way. Even less so with me around. I'll be your anchor. I'll make sure you will always be... _you_. My Zhan Yao. Smart as a whip, a little arrogant, sometimes rude, but with his heart in the right place – “

He's interrupted in turn by Zhan Yao's arms around his neck, kissing his cheek, grinning against his skin in a way that's wonderfully familiar; that feels wonderfully right. It means he thinks Bai Yutong is being ridiculous and due to be saved from himself, even while what he already said gets filed away as possible blackmail and teasing material for later.

“Shut up,” he mutters, muffled because his mouth is still so close to Bai Yutong's neck that the latter can feel his lips moving with the words. “Before your tongue gets so loose you can't even look at me in the morning.”

“Oh, when you want to pour your heart out before me that's okay,” Bai Yutong shoots back. “But if I try to reassure your sorry ass, then _I'm_ getting ridiculed?” He doesn't wait for an answers, just swiftly lowers himself back down and hooks his leg underneath Zhan Yao's, then flips them so that he's once more hovering over Zhan Yao, kissing him to steal the breathless laugh that erupts out of him at the maneuver.

They make out some more, even though it won't go anywhere, and Bai Yutong keeps it up for long enough that the mixed feelings in his heart – relief and worry, post-sex happiness and that twinge of guilt – abate little by little, replaced by simply feeling bone-tired. He presses a final kiss to the corner of Zhan Yao's mouth, and this time, when Bai Yutong pulls at him so they can fall asleep in each other's arms, he follows without protest.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [dreamwidth](https://geckoholic.dreamwidth.org/), [tumblr](http://lostemotion.tumblr.com) or [twitter](https://twitter.com/spacenerdz).


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